Deadly Mathmatics
by bricoleur
Summary: Mark, brother of the new Chrestomanci, can't help but begrudge Victoria, his beautiful and witty sister, for the unpleasent turn his life has taken ever since she discovered her singular likeness to his favorette companion, vapor, a cat. Then, however,com
1. Berrys and Vaporsand such

((A/N:actually, all of these charactors belong to me, as I invented them. But chrestomanci belongs to Diana Wynne Jones, this is purely a fan fiction, ect. In other words, weather or not this is I just wanted to say I know it is a fanfiction, and nothing more. Falalala. Read and rate, and long live DWJ.))  
  
The cat paraded along the top of the immense, imposing brick wall; his nose offered to the sky in greating. He sniffted distainfully; his whiskers twitched, and his mouth opened a small crack, as though he wished to sample the very clouds. Unfortunately, he lacked a straw. Or evan a decent cup.  
  
Some distance away, Mark crinkled his nose as eyes like liquid drops of chocolate peered behind thick lenses rimmed in gaudy golden frames. Ever since his sister had been named Chrestomanci, evan his dearest lilac point companion seamed to have the wonderful habbit of ignoring him. He strutted so imperviously, seemingly unaware of the potted plants he knocked off every which way, totally ignoring Mark. It wasn't fair! Just a week prior, Mark and his family had led a humble, but happy existance on a small berry farm. He had loved to charge recklassly through the fields, mindless of the thorns, thinking only of the berrys. The red, bulding berrys. It was worth every thorn twice over, evan just for one.  
  
Evan just for one.  
  
Mark sighed. Things would never be the same again, he knew it down the marrow of his bones.  
  
His lilac point comapanion, currently in the process of shunning him, high up on the wall, turned his elegent,imperial face in Mark's direction. Mark sighed. he whispered the name. He'd named the cat himself. He'd loved the name. So, he'd thought, had Vapor. But everything was changing. He knew, deap down, in the pit of his stomach, he shouldn't begrudge Victoria. She couldn't help being chrestomanci. Besides, the world needed someone just like her.   
  
She was clever. Her hands where clever as well as her mind. Evan her heart was clever. And she was beautiful, evan Mark could see that. Almost as beautiful as Vapor. She was a commanding presense, and besides, she was his sister.  
  
But he couldn't help it. After all, he was only human. She had nine lives. He had one. He wondered then, youthful face upturned to better veiw his favorette cat, to whom he had been favorette just a week ago, if Victoria was fully human. He supposed it didn't matter. Immensely lucky was what she was, either way, or any other.  
  
  



	2. Victoria Prepares

Victoria scrutinized her intangible double. Her intangible double scrutinized her. Her dark brows furrowed, crinkling and distorting her china forehead, like one pleats clothes. Ringlets the color of her brothers eyes toppled over shoulders, tightly wound, as though in anticipation-of what, Victoria couldn't fathom. HER eyes, however, were not brown at all. There was simply no confusing them with such. They were beautiful, golden orbs. Piercing, and currently glowing with a fierce light a notch above their usual, with a tint of the almost accusing. She sighed. For as long as she could remember, she had gone about the minute, petty, often annoying tasks provoked by morning. Until recently,however, she had held rather little appreciation for them. Now, she savored them as leave to procrastinate.  
  
She furled her long, elegant figures about the handle of tortoise shell comb, and raked it through her untamable hair. She yanked a little to hard, and pushed a little to much, and winced to feel it's teeth make hard contact with her scalp. Then she lay her comb aside, and took up in turn a linen washcloth.   
  
She turned on the faucet, still marveling at the idea of running water- a luxury she had never before been able to afford. Then, she scrubbed her face until it smarted, and blinked in shock with cold and pain at the mirror- astonished to find she had drawn no blood. (Although, admirably, her face WAS rather red.)  
  
She was reckless, always. Heedless, always. Ever since she had learned of the strange power she possessed- regardless of weather or not she could evan begin to comprehend them. She wanted to call them her strange, NEW powers, but apparently they where not such. They had been there all along. All these years...and i haven't evan known the first thing about me! She thought wryly.  
  
Then, after a fashion, a long moment in which nothing sprang to mind, she consented regretfully that she could dodle no longer. She yielded, and tugged on a silk tunic the exact luster and hue of emerald, and (with some difficulty and some annoyance)), pulled on a skirt composed of layer after layer of robins egg blue.  
  
With that, she pushed forth from her chamber, and her duties as chrestomanci's heir began for the day.   
  
The first order of which was breakfast. This was a task Victoria found she could sorely appreciate, as, the night before, she had found herself too distressed and ill composed to dine with the others-or, in the end, at all. Briskly, she made her way down the spacious corridors, holding her chin high, but feeling rather small inside, until reached the secluded dining room, currently bathed in a pool of sunlight streaming in through the fittingly positioned bay window, under which was, of course, the table. That table was laden with everything she could ask to start the mourning; one part fried egg, one part fresh-squeezed orange juice, one part crisp toast, and-unfortunately- one part mark.  
  
Again, Victoria sighed. Her brother was acting so oddly lately. He avoided her to any cost, and, when she became unavoidable, he went to great odds to start evan the pettiest of quarrels. It was quickly and unpleasantly becoming rediculace.   
  
Still, Victoria resolved to be unavoidable. She forced a shaky smile, and seated herself primly across from her brother.  
  
she said, sweetly, but guardedly, would you care to pass the marmalade?


End file.
